"Give me that food. Let Screech buy his own cheese. I'm going up over to see my mother. I'll carry it to her."
He held out his hand and she took the cheese from her basket and gave it to him.
"And no more of this, my dear. I'm not going to keep other people's children--because I haven't got none of my own. And don't you never think so, Madge; because if you do, you'll think wrong. Good-bye for the present. Don't think 'tis hard: 'tis only sense."
He put the food in his pocket and rode on; she stood and watched him; then her lips parted a little and as she pressed them together tears started from her eyes. There was none to see and she made no effort to restrain her sorrow. Her face was still tear-stained when two men overtook her and Bartley Crocker, with Billy Screech, bade her good-day. Billy was in a hurry and had to call at his home on the way elsewhere. He dearly liked Margaret and now, hearing that she was on the way to see Dorcas, took her basket for her. Mr. Screech rapidly passed out of sight and she was left alone with Bartley.
He spoke at once.
"What's amiss?" he said. "You've been crying."
"Nonsense!"
"I daresay it was. Still, you have. And if 'twas nonsense, you can tell me so much the easier."
"Some silly trifle. You oughtn't to have taken any note of it."
"I've just met David--going up to Ditsworthy. He must have passed you. Well, well--no business of mine, Madge. I'll say nought and ask you to forgive me for being so bold as to see. Only I'm different to other people. We've got such a lot of secrets--you and me."